"Weel, here's long life to Rhamaswamy!" exclaimed the Doctor, laying aside his knife and fork, and proceeding to wash down a most substantial breakfast with a goblet of cool claret. "He is a gentleman every inch o' him, in spite o' his name; and, by my troth, he kens how to make himsel comfortable, there's nae doubt o' that, for there's no a better keepit house than this in a' Madras."

"You do injustice to the hospitality of our worthy host," said Mansfield; "he never inhabits this house himself, it is kept up entirely for the accommodation of his European friends; and when he visits the island, he takes up his abode in one of the neigbouring Brahmin's houses, living upon the frugal fare of the most abstemious Hindoo." "Weel, weel! mair's the pity," replied the Doctor, availing himself of the opportunity to fill another bumper of claret. "But it only proves him to be mair o' a gentleman than ever; so here's to him again, honest man, and may grace be given him to quit eating cauld rice, and betake himsel to the mair Christianlike vivers o' het beefsteaks, and weel corket claret."

Breakfast being finished, our friends lighted their cheroots and sallied forth on foot to visit the great fall of Gungan Jooki. Mr. M-attended to act as cicerone, and the trusty Ayapah, who considered himself an indispensable appendage to his master, followed at a respectful distance. He was armed to the teeth, as usual, for he loved his weapons as a woman loves her ornaments, never laying them aside on any occasion, and on his shoulder he bore Mansfield's ever-ready rifle. This was the weapon which he respected above all others-no profane hand ever dared to touch it-and the worthy Ayapah never threw it across his shoulders even on the most pacific occasion, without assuming a look of determination, which might have struck awe even to the heart of a tiger.

The branch of the river which forms the great fall of Gungan Jooki is divided into two streams, just at the point where it throws itself over the precipice, by a small island without a name. We used, in our younger days to call it Tiger Island, from the circumstance of our having encountered, and narrowly escaped being devoured by a whole family of these amiable animals the very first time we set foot upon it-and so Tiger Island let it be. The appearance of an island in such a situation, tottering as it were, on the brink of destruction, is very striking. It gives one the idea of its having been floated down the river, and accidentally stopped by some impediment, just as it reached the brink of the cataract. The river, which for some distance above the island flows along with a gentle current, here assumes a new character; the divided streams, as if irritated by their abrupt separation, sweep furiously along their rocky channels, fretting like parted lovers, till having reached the brink of the precipice which forms the fall, they hail their approaching union with a shout of triumph, and throwing themselves headlong from a height of nearly three hundred feet, are again united. The ever-glowing rainbow, which floats upon the spray, forms their bridal wreath, and Echo sings a marriage-hymn amidst the rocks and caverns of the surrounding mountains. It is a song of thunder-fit music for such giant lovers.

(To be continued.)

KOONDAH.

A PRECIOUS FAMILY!

BY GEORGE RAYMOND, ESQ.

ALTHOUGH I have not unfrequently encountered my friend Charles since presenting him here, I know not that I should again have brought him into public, but for a recent occurrence so paramount, that I must beg leave to complete one entire epoch of his chronicles. I have already said he was always a hero, but like many of his illustrious predecessors, some of his successes have been so dearly bought, that well might he have exclaimed, "Another such will undo me !" Like the tattered suitor who in dismal exultation proclaimed he had gained his causebeing in fact only a few threads better than his adversary who had lost it, so has been much of his bonne fortune; and when frequently he would have persuaded himself he had been felicitously appropriating all the applause, it has been rather after the example of Moses in the Vicar of Wakefield, against whom the joke was cruelly turned, than of any greater or more unequivocal champion of Christendom. In truth, Charles had never learnt that most useful of lessons, to say "No." His pliability was always in the market, and his assent at the disposal of every caterer for provisions. He had a certain natural consignment of wit, which he appeared to hold as a kind of moral dispensary, to which every pauper had access, though bringing with him no letter of recommendation. In truth, the small vanity which possessed him of being accounted popular, would not allow him to see in how variform a manner he was made use of, and while he thought he was laying up something valuable for to-morrow, he was at the cheap disposal of every exigent acquaintance of yesterday.

I had not arrived in town many days, when a familiar rap at the door, announced my most welcome visiter. His looks at once advertised a new volume of transactions, but his manner was somewhat nervous and hurried, and his eye rather wandered in anxiety than danced in delight.

"Well, my Hermes of all that's marvellous and stirring," said I, "what is it, in either heaven or earth occupies you now? Charles," continued I, attempting to fix him in a chair. "This is no accidental visit you are come to place some confidence in me. Believe me, I am never better prepared, than when your friendship calls upon me, however suddenly."

About as successfully would he have persuaded me he was at ease, as vanity affects the step of unconscious pain in a tight shoe, and when he smiled in return, it was by no means unlike one who has chapped lips, dreading the cracked skin; nor were my thick-coming fancies at all quieted, on seeing him thrust a poker into a bouquet of choice flowers, doubtless with the expectation of stirring them into a blaze, which, this being the 21st of June, I had placed in my midsummer stove. "To say the least of it, this is as unreasonable as unseasonable," thought I, "he has had some unpleasant difference, peradventure, with his dearest friend-some combustion of honour; or his dearest friend may have just quitted him on a long absence, leaving him a dishonoured bill, as

P.P.C., with the funds of most ample ingratitude to satisfy more acceptances than that of poor Charles.

"Come, come !" interrupted I, "daylight rises on your masquerading, and the colours of your disguise show rather sickly than charming. Throw it aside-and if any thing disagreeable has happened

66

-Disagreeable!" interposed he; "How entirely you mistake me! Disagreeable! is it possible you can suppose that any thing disagreeable has happened, when I am come to tell you to tell you-" -What is it you are come to tell me? If it be good, believe me, I shall not be the less inclined to share it with you."

66

It was now for the first time, he really did laugh—no counterfeit, but a true token of his hearty temper. "No, no," cried he, " that will be quite impossible. I can enter into no further partnership in this account; it wouldn't look well in the gazette, and the respectability of the firm would materially suffer; for the fact is" and here, slightly relapsing into his first disorder, whilst with the rapid finger of a banker's clerk, he turned over the leaves of a book, which happened to contain my own private memoranda-" for the fact is," faltered he"I am going to be married."

"Married!" I vociferated, "married, Charles! When-wherehow-and to whom?

When striding hastily to the window, and flourishing with his forefinger a great C on a pane of glass.

"To whom !" reiterated he. "Whom! why, to Constantia, to be

sure."

"Constantia! and Constantia, to be sure! Now, who on earth is Constantia ?"

"Oh! Constantia-" and here, he achieved a still larger C-" Constantia Wopshott-and I am come really, my dear fellow, to request-" "Hold! hold!" I would have interposed-" Constantia who?” "To request you will be good enough-as you are my oldest friend, you know-"

"Yet, stay! not quite so fast. Const

But no, not a hair's shadow of a chance would he give to my most harmless and natural inquiry. His refuge was in the rapidity and continuousness of his tongue. On he went-many things-all things, but the lady's name, were repeated. How happy he would be-how gratified she would be-how surprised I must be! And it was not until he had far outstripped my importunity by many a mile, and fairly distanced the exhausted question, that he brought himself to a halt, and when he did so, it was most adroitly done, by closing on me the barrier of a question himself." Do you think me, then, so ill suited to such a change of condition?"

"I must first know the condition you are in," I answered; and willing to relieve him from the apprehension of further pursuit, begged to hear where the family resided. But this second request struck me nearly as unadvised as the former, though really it could scarcely have been deemed ill timed, and again I perceived my friend Charles far from a state of repose. He stood, however, but a few moments on the brink of reply, and perceiving he could not avoid the plunge, manfully threw himself into it, and though his respiration naturally enough encountered some check in the struggle, yet he satisfied me by saying,

"Warren-street-Warren-street, New-road-that is, Regent's-park -the Wopshotts, of Warren-street. Do you know them? the Wopshotts? they visit every body, I assure you-it's astonishing the number of people they know."

Understanding I should here offer some token of assent, I bowed my

head.

"Oh! indeed-I assure you," proceeded he, "I am not at all endeavouring to-but-Constantia is a most superior person, and has refused," measuring himself in the glass," many excellent offers indeed Singleton, of the Eays, declares she was positively la belle hyacinthe at the late horticultural display."

I now saw that it would be downright inhumanity to be too sincere with poor Charles, for I really began to suspect he had again mistaken defeat for conquest, and held an engagement to be married as some proof of the condition of the heart-not that I doubted his weakness for the fair Constantia, but I suspected other machinery than the simple operation of his own feelings had been employed in so sudden a completion of the business; I thereupon merely requested to know how near at hand was the accomplishment of the affair.

"I apprehended," said he, "the rapidity of my marches would not a little amaze you, but you shall learn the particulars by a letter, which I received a week ago from Constantia's mother."

"Her mother!"

"Yes—you know, it was a very natural thing she should write to me, and really she expresses herself with so much candour-such a proper feeling-that-but here, you shall read for yourself." Saying which, he produced a letter; and on my taking it, again turned his attention to the mirror, and contemplated the portrait therein, with far greater interest than falls to the lot of family pictures in general. I read as follows:

"My dear Sir,

"From the very marked attention with which you have for some time regarded my sweet child, Constantia, and particularly the other evening at Mrs. Doughty's ball, I think it due to my family to suggest that some explanation on your part should take place. Constantia, my dear sir, is of the most gentle and affectionate disposition in the world-openhearted, and without reserve: she speaks what she thinks, and is altogether free from that silly affectation which too frequently distinguishes the youthful debutantes of the present day. Mr. Wopshott and myself are passionately devoted to the sweet girl, and although, Heaven knows, it will cost us many a bitter pang to part with her, yet we cannot but be aware that looking forward to the settlement of children, is a wise and prudential part of parental obligation; that they may find timely protectors in the place of those, whom sooner or later it will please Divine Providence to deprive them of. Constantia's feelings are certainly deeply engaged. You, my valued sir, have made yourself master of her affections. The course to follow is not for me to point out to one of Mr. Charles Westbourne's exemplary character-he well understands the uncompromising principle of honour; a principle from which my admired friend has never been known to swerve. Mr. Wop

shott, you may be aware, has a large family, but no expense has been spared on Constantia's education. She paints beautifully-I may say, artistically, particularly insects, shells and all testacous fish. She accompanies herself on the guitar-was nine months at St. Omer's for the sole purpose of completing herself in the French language, and is now making considerable advances in Zotti's Italian Grammar. Nor can I withhold mentioning her maps in worsted-they are incomparable, and she has worked a poodle dog, which her aunt Flamstead declares positively surpasses nature.

"Grace, our eldest girl, poor thing, is unfortunately (as you may know, my dear sir) totally imbecile, and therefore never goes out. Our dear Constantia comes next. Samuel, our eldest boy, is just out of his articles, and has set up for himself in Featherstonebuildings. Prudence, the third girl, is taken much notice of by a distant relation of Mr. Wopshott, an old lady, most enormously rich, and who lives constantly at Devizes. Peter, the next, is doing well at the Bluecoat-school-a little wild, perhaps, but what can you expect at his age?-boys will be boys, you know, Mr. Westbourne. Alfred John, our sixth, is yet young, and under the instruction of a gentleman of Crutched-friars, and Mary Matilda, quite an infant, promises to grow up very like a certain sweet sister of hers, whose name you shall guess.

"Mr. Wopshott's situation at the office is worth, with all its advantages, about 3827. a year. He has two leasehold houses in Pimlico, near to the Gun Tavern, and some small ground-rents (which I am told are the best kind of property) not far from the Peacock,' at Islington, of which, our mutual friend Mrs. Doughty, pays him the bulk. Mr. Wopshott would have had the pleasure of addressing a letter to you himself; but that his duties at his office occupy so much of his mornings, he really is unequal to the task; and when he reaches our family table, poor man, he is so exhausted, that he frequently retires even before our little lobster reunions in the evening.

Poor Constance! I will narrate to you an incident of this very morning. You know how fond she is of reading :

"Constantia,' said I, what passage is it of Mrs. Barbauld's letters which so interests you?'

"Oh, nothing mamma,' replied she, placing the book aside. On which I took it up; and what think you, Mr. Westbourne, was the paragraph? I must transcribe it:

"A considerate woman will be ever anxious to please her husband in trifles. The great obligations in life, he will consider as the duty, but the lesser attentions will be received as favours!'

"So you see Mr. Westbourne, how our children are brought up. "We shall expect you at tea, as usual, to-morrow, and pray don't forget to bring your flute-you served us a sad trick the last time. Where did you pick up that sweet song, 'Is there a heart that never loved?' And now, my dear sir, with warmest esteem, and best wishes for your health and happiness,

"Believe me, yours,

66 GRACE WOPSHOTT.

"P.S. Peter is very anxious to show you his rabbits, which he keeps Nov.-VOL. LVII. NO. CCXXVII. 2 D